


The Ghost of a Hero

by vinterdwell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Grief/Mourning, M/M, OOC, Selfishness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:36:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3962935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinterdwell/pseuds/vinterdwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selfish ghost Cedric wanders around the castle, thinking about his life, feeling sorry for himself, obsessing over Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost of a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try at writing a fanfic. And English is not my first language. So please be kind :)

Cedric was always the hero of the story. It was something he just knew since he was little. His father told him he was special, so special, his father's special boy, destined for greatness. And sure he felt irked and weird when he was told so in public or in front of his friends, but he never really questioned it.

Well, it wasn't as if he ever had the time to really question anything in his life. There was always so much to do. So many responsibilities. So many expectations to live up to. He never stopped long enough to really think anything through. Or at least, that is how he views his live, now that it is over.

Nowadays, all that is left is contemplation. And wandering. 

He wanders around the castle, invisible for most of the time. He sits in the Prefects' Bathroom, watching Myrtle watching people bath, wondering about her life and her death. Careful not to let her see him.

He sits in the Astronomy Tower, watching the moon, regretting that he never went to visit the only small wizard village on Luna, located right in the middle of Mare Nubium, the Sea of Clouds. Cho told him about it. About the "wondrous views". Of Earth, at a distance. And the stars, of course. In Cedric's memory, Cho is always talking about the stars. He hopes that she is up there now, in that village. Working as an astronomer, as she once dreamed of doing.

He could go there now, he supposes. But what would be the point? It's not like it will be “an experience to remember for the rest of your life!”

For the most part, Cedric sits outside the Room of Requirement, waiting for Harry Potter.

Cedric has realised by now that he is not the hero. He was there, at Hogwarts, when the last battle against Lord Voldemort played itself out, watching as if the world he once lived in was a set in a movie, feeling detached and keeping himself invisible, doing nothing as people were slaughtered right in front of him. Cedric watched Harry's stupid, selfless bravery. And Cedric felt betrayed, somehow. Petty, despite himself. More selfish than he ever let himself feel when he was still alive.

"Where was the selfless hero act, Harry Potter, when you led me to my execution. When you stood there doing nothing as I was killed?" he whispered to himself. "You only cried over me because you felt guilty. You never thought of me, and missed my smile. You thought of me, and thought about what other people might think. That other people might think you a murderer, after dragging my lifeless body back. You thought about how Cho Chang might feel about you, after all that had happened. But did you ever think about my feelings? No. Never. When I was alive I looked at you from across the Great Hall, every day at every meal, and did you ever look back at me for more than a moment? With more than a dutifully plastered on smile?"

The dead don't have to bother with being rightous or kind or fair, Cedric reasons. He thinks he might be a poltergeist. Or on his way to becoming one.

Now, Harry is still the same as he has always been, only older and wiser and wearing a pair of much more expensive and much more flattering round glasses than the pair he wore when he was still a student. Now he's a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Predictably enough. And still loved and cherished and respected by all except the Daily Prophet "journalists". Cedric finds it interesting, and funny, how the Prophet can still publish so much crap about the beloved Harry Potter, Saviour of All, without going out of business. He knows it doesn't bother Harry anymore. Harry Potter has other things to feel anguish over. So many dead friends. No wonder Cedric is forgotten.

Harry comes to the Room of Requirement to cry over the past. Cedric knows this, because he has made it a habit to wait outside and to slip in after Harry. To watch, as Harry falls to pieces on the small bed in the otherwise empty room. Harry whispers and screams and lets out all that he keeps inside through the day when others are around.

"Mom..." He whispers.

"You never even knew her." Cedric whispers back.

"Dad..."

"You didn't know him either."

"Dobby... I'm sorry..." Harry cries.

"You should be sorry." Cedric whispers, almost loud enough to be heard, if Harry hadn't been weeping so audibly. "Crying over a house elf. You used to wake up screaming my name. What happened? When did you get over the fact that i died, was killed, ruthlessly, right next to you, you selfish…"

Cedric used to think that he liked Harry because they where alike. They were both strong. Selfless. Kind. Loyal to their friends. And never cruel, not even towards their enemies.

Nowadays he knows better. He doesn't know any feeling, nowadays, that isn't fueled by selfishness or laced with cruelty.

He thinks that this is what happens to regular people when their world collapses in on itself. To regular people, like himself.

It is only heroes like Potter who gets to fall apart and still keep their kind and loving hearts in their chests.

How did he get to be that way? Cedric can't bear his conflicting emotions. A perfect person like Harry Potter should only exist in fiction.


End file.
